Crazy or Courageous?

Really, I should have known better. And I did have reservations about proceeding with the plans. So why did I put myself into such a position? Well, I guess I know why: (1) I always wanted to try it, (2) a friend needed a partner, (3) the opportunity was crystal clear, and (4) I keep forgetting that my body is much older than my spirit. I've lived in Colorado for nearly thirteen years ... thirteen years of people saying to me, "Oh, you live in Colorado. Do you ski?" The answer has always been, "No, but I really want to learn." From now on, however, my answer will be, "Been there, done that, end of story." You see, yesterday I signed up for a ski lesson in Breckenridge, Colorado. The scenery was pristine and the opportunity was ripe (and expensive). My friend, Laura, and I bought an all-day skiing lesson, rented ski boots and skis, bundled up against the single-digit temperature, and confidently set out to learn to ski. Let's just say that Laura dropped out before the end of the morning and I dropped out at lunch time. And for good reason. How many times can an out-of-shape "middle-aged" woman pick herself up on a snowy slope with skis attached to boots that are too heavy to walk in?? Man alive, I can barely get up off the living room floor after playing with the grandkids! I fell four times, nearly froze my fingers, depleted every last ounce of strength I had, and still didn't learn to ski. "Enough is enough", I said. I became a ski-school dropout. I've always thought that with being a full blood Scandinavian, skiing would surely come easy to me. Well.....well.....maybe if I tried again I would finally get it. Maybe next year. Maybe not.